Carolyn Faulkner The Red Cheek Diaries (pdf)

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for my beloved, who always says he d be just as happy to find black socks and underwear
under the tree
Louise, I come from the type of family where I had my Christmas list done by July, for
crying out loud. Volume II came out in August, and the whole thing had a reprint no later
than October!! His family is one of those "draw names, everyone gets someone
something, and they make you try it on before they wrap it" types . . . major eye roll>
So, needless to say, he thinks I m extravagant during the holidays. I
am. That s what the holidays are about!!! I m not just buying for my family and his
family, though; I m buying for friends!! I don t have a lot of em, but those I have, I like
to treat once a year to something nice. Lord knows I can t afford it the rest of the year . . .
And, of course, his response to that would be that WE can t afford it for Christmas, either
. . .
Grumble. Groan. Cough. Wheeze. Snort.
I do SOOOO hate it when he s right.
Hunt has suggested that I tell you a little about myself he read my diatribes here
which I do have to confess was absolute torture because he told me he was going to do it
and I was home when he did. Oy!!! It was like I don t know. But believe me, it was
bad, bad, bad!!
Anyway, although he was very complimentary
tell me, that he thought it stunk? I doubt it>, he said that those who are reading this all,
what, two of us, him and me? might want to know a little about me what do I look
like, what do I do for a living, stuff like that. I m thinkin you already know
too much about me if you ve gotten to this point . . . And he added quite pointedly that I
have to do the physical description without saying anything bad about myself and without
lying, of course.
Hmmmmmmm. What to say, what to say. Well, I guess I should describe myself
physically first and get it over with. Yuck. Ugh. I m allergic to cameras, so there are
almost no pictures of me except those that Hunt gets by sneaking up on me, so what
there are of me always look like I ve seen a ghost or something my eyes are popping
and my mouth is open . So there won t be any
pictures posted here, although I know that this blog site allows it. Nuh-uh. No way.
Let s see. My driver s license says that I m five-seven and I weigh one-twenty-two. I
think we ll go with that.
Oh, crap. I can t. The scrupulously honest thing.
In case you hadn t guessed, he was reading over my shoulder which should be against
the law as far as I m concerned.
So . . . okay. I m five-six. And my weight is more like . . . um . . . one-thirty-
Oh, all right. One-forty. I got dragged to the doctor s for my annual ob-gyn exam
I hate what woman doesn t?> just last week, and that s what they weighed me at. So
I m fat. Okay?
Ow.
I just got "it" for being sassy in my diary and denigrating my looks when he d expressly
told me not to. Damn and blast.
I have blue eyes and, depending on how long it s been since I ve been to my hairdresser,
either dirty blonde hair in the summer or even uglier dark blonde hair in the winter, or a
lot of nice, golden-blonde hair. It s about medium length ends just above my bra strap
in back and is naturally wavy and curly. Yeah, I know some of you women hate me, but
it s not like I don t have to get the rest of it permed when I want to be totally curly.
I have blue eyes and fair skin. Hunt, on the other hand, is almost my exact opposite. He s
all dark. Black hair, black eyes, darker skinned than I am. I fry in the sun, he tans
beautifully, although we re both careful to use sunscreen.
It s because I m so fair that I bruise so easily. I swear, he just has to give me "the look"
and my butt starts to turn red and bruised.
I m not short, really, for a woman, but Hunt is TALL, with a capital TALL. He s six-
three or so. When I m not in trouble, his size really makes me feel protected I know, I
know. I m not supposed to need to feel that way nowadays, being a liberated woman and
all , but I do. So sue me. He s broad, too has that nice Y-shape that makes
women drool.
Eat your hearts out, ladies. He s MINE, all MINE .
Anyway, my occupation is simple or it used to be: I teach. Fifth graders. Never wanted
to do anything but teach all my life, and, even when the economy stunk and teachers were
a dime a dozen, I had a job even before I graduated from college, thanks to a union
school that was opening in a little town south of Albuquerque. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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